GRAY IN L.A.

Sad things happen without warnings - and within minutes. Poof ! My last post in my new column in the Huffington Post, also called "Gray in L.A." because I like it so much, had only been up for 1 DAY! In it I write about the glorious old rock n roll days when all the concerts were cheap, innocent and mostly carefree and the Artists were mostly Artists. And then we all learned that PRINCE had died at the age of only 57. Oh No! Not again another Great Musician, many cried out. What is happening? I "met" PRINCE in 1994 at the opening of The House of Blues on Sunset. He was standing next to me in the elevator - barely reaching my shoulder. A pixie-ish cute guy with a hint of a very shy smile and big sparkling yet sad eyes. A guy you wanted to hug a little (a least I did!) Gone!

Secret Dater, Female - Case-Study 790_%&$-@OK OK, I admit it. I have been in the dating zoo for a while - with a certain lack of enthusiasm and a fair share of ambivalence . You know how it is; LOVE being single, but wouldn't mind dating here and there. And like many others I was too cheap to pay for some fancy websites that promise that you will finally find the supposedly missing half of yourself (I personally haven't lost any piece of me yet, just my patience) in the form of some 64 year old rotund "readiforlove" guy with a jaunty hat and a Cocker Spaniel from Tarzana , CA.  Generally speaking, a fantastic name for a city where the ever so brief introduction "Me, Tarzan, you Jane" could lead to all kinds of steamy encounters. Yet, I declined, couldn't find my leopard bikini. And I also wasn't adventurous enough to go all the way  and  check out tinder and therefore having to fight off all those offers for a quickie in a Porsche w...